Blood Lines
by Rae TB
Summary: It was a life of desolate popularity, painted in muted hues and marred by scars left behind from what were once blood lines. Trunks centric self harm.
1. Author's Note

Hello and thank you for choosing to give this story a try. I know there are many fics you could have chosen to read, and I'm honored this one caught your eye for whatever the reason. With that said, I have a few friendly but serious notes I'd like you to read before you dive in.

As the summary informed you, this is about self harm. However, only so much can be put in a summary and so I would like to expand upon that. I take this topic very seriously. I struggled with self harm for a year and a half, and have been cut free for over three years. Because of my personal struggles, cutting means a good deal to me. I put a part of myself in every story where I write about this topic. Many stories glorify cutting. This won't be one of those.

I plan to show the serious parts and the only glorification cutting will get will be from the character struggling with it. However, while I don't plan to paint it in a strictly positive light, this story will by no means belittle the issue or make it as anti-cutting as some of society is. Throughout the course of this story, one thing I won't do is to tell anyone that currently self harms to stop immediately, because I know it's not that easy. While I am no substitute for a therapist, I am here for anyone who wants to talk about their experience with self harm. I'm more than happy to receive emails, reviews, or instant messages from anyone, regardless of the day, year, and time.

This will hopefully prove to be a more realistic view and will draw on my personal experiences while adding the little twists only the Dragonball Z universe can provide. I will focus primarily on cutting. There won't be any drugs or alcohol problems and while depression will be important to the story, it won't take center stage. Most importantly, cutting will not be a suicide attempt and though there may be suicidal thoughts...no one will die by their own hands. Also, no pairings. Unrequited love perhaps, but I don't want a bunch of extra stuff to detract from the message.

Whereas in the past I've had my cutting stories begin with the main character already cutting, in this case I plan to show the events leading to the behavior. I've realized that not doing so isn't doing this topic justice, or properly showcasing the phases, or the reasoning that goes into it.

Flames are welcome, but please do so with writing style, grammar, characterization, dialogue, and plot development only. You by no means have to like cutting. I'd have no problem with you reading and reviewing even if you think cutting is twisted and disgusting. Just please keep those opinions to yourself. Not for my sake – I've heard it all at this point. If you want to email me privately to tell me I'm a sick freak, that's fine. But I refuse to have any readers living with that problem feel put down, ashamed, or like it isn't safe to share personal struggles in the review section of my story.

I ask you to have an open mind, and respect my experiences. I plan to put a ton of effort into this story, and I would like for my readers to take a minute or two afterward to contemplate the ideas they are left with, to challenge existing thought processes, and to learn. To me, this is more than just a fictional story. It's a chance to grow as a person. Hopefully, others will see it that way too.

With all that said, I have one last thing to go over before you start reading the actual fic – the dedication.

Instead of dedicating it to my friends and family like I've done in the past, this one is for those who have ever known the pain of a self harm problem both current and behind them, and to the people who have shown nothing but support and love in response. Those of you that have helped me personally know who you are as there is light even in your **darkness**. There's no one I can think of that deserves the dedication for this story more than they do.

Carry on as you were and I hope you like it.


	2. The lines are drawn

It was a life of desolate popularity.

"Yeah, so it's going to be really awesome."

Even now after years of the same routine Trunks was amazed how lonely being surrounded by people could be.

"...And I'd really like it if you could come."

What had his teacher called it? Escapism. That seemed to embody his situation well enough. He had to flee from the stress, the strangers at home whose faces blurred together and faded before his eyes. Their voices and all else that had once appeared so clear had ceased to seem tangible long ago.

Trunks thought he had found his escape – comfort and release from his ominous future through his peers. But did these forged testimonies of being held in high esteem really make him happy? After all, being adored for the sake of adoration was no life.

"You could bring Goten even..."

He was on a path that had been forced on him, a life that wasn't his own. Even Trunks' once genuine feelings had begun to feel fake from being discounted one too many times. His thoughts had become twisted, marred to such a point that he could no longer separate the fictional from the harsh realities of his existence.

"I mean, if you want to..."

He had never wanted to be a prince, an heir to a multi-million dollar corporation whose creation he had nothing to do with. But he was the first born, the only son, and the precious namesake of two intense personalities that often threatened to overwhelm him.

"Trunks, are you listening?"

What right did his parents have to thrust such impossible burdens onto his shoulders? He was their child, painted in their image in muted hues, but a vital part of their bloodline nonetheless.

"Trunks..."

"Oh, uhhh...Sorry Adia. I spaced out there for a minute, but I heard you. I'm not sure if I have Friday open, but I'll check my schedule and get back to you."

The brunette tilted her head, her green eyes scanning his form thoughtfully before smiling feebly and nodding. Trunks had always found her average to the point of being ugly, but today there was something about her fragility that made her beautiful to him. The tears she was fighting back and the years of pain in the depths of her eyes reflected his so closely that he could feel his heart crack with hers. It was exhilarating to see someone his torn soul could relate to, but it frightened him enough to crave her absence. "Actually, I just remembered. I can't. I'm sorry. But hey, I'll see you around." With a charming smile, and a quick turn away from her, his shoes could soon be heard pounding against the surface of the hallway.

"Wait, Trunks!"

Adia raised her arm, the angry crimson lines crossing over her tanned skin glimmering in the school's brightly lit hallway. In vain she reached out for him dimly as he walked away, his image slipping through her fingers. Nothing but the memory of his presence was left to warm her chill body.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

"I never pegged you as the type who would be friends with a girl like Adia, Trunks," Goten got out, swallowing a large portion of his lunch. For his efforts at making conversation with his recently withdrawn companion, he earned a frigid glare.

"I'm not."

"Ahhh...Well sorry about that then. But that rumor is flying through the school." Rumors he were used to. In some ways, they had become a comfort, knowledge that someone cared enough to make the effort to ruin his reputation. This one seemed inconspicuous enough, although Goten had said something that had caught his attention.

"Of course, nothing new there...But what did you mean by 'a girl like Adia'?" Trunks inquired, making a face at the cafeteria food, pushing it around. He was only half interested in the answer, more consumed with insuring the meal before him wouldn't consume _him_.

"I'm surprised a guy as informed as you are doesn't already know."

It was true that Trunks had numerous connections. He was sure that if he wanted he could use them to discover secrets the school had hiding behind its ivory doors. It just wasn't worth it. He had far too many things that could be found out about his own history to risk it.

"You're usually the one that tells me about these things. Now spill, what's so wrong with her? She seems okay to me." Adia was probably one of the few people whose heart came across genuine to him. Her presence while at times annoying, assured him that warmth still existed in the otherwise shallow hallways of his school.

"I'm not saying she isn't a good person," Goten mumbled. "She's just sort of...emo is all."

"Emo..." Trunks got out. He tasted the word with his tongue, soon left with a bitter taste in his mouth. Labels never sat well with him.

"Yeah, cuts herself and stuff," Goten shivered, rubbing his arm. "I mean, man. I know we train and fight and all, but the cuts and bruises are a price we pay to protect our world. But she does that to herself on purpose. Kind of creepy, yeah?"

"I guess..." Trunks replied dully. He didn't have a strong opinion on the matter. What Adia did was her own business.

"I just don't get people like that, but whatever."

Trunks exhaled tiredly, pushing his food away as Goten threw out his trash. The already grotesque plate he had been handed seemed even more disgusting to him now.

"Well, I'm finished. I'll see you later. Just try to avoid that Adia chick from now on. Might be contagious."

"Yeah, sure thing Goten. Thanks for the warning." A short wave was all Trunks received in reply leaving him with the emptiness he knew Adia must have felt when he had departed in a similar way. "Why should I care? I'm not like her. I'm not emo."

The strained words sounded like lies even to his own ears.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

There was nothing quite as satisfying as the feeling of knuckles colliding with a fragile cheek. The sound of skin pounding skin, and the surging beat of his pulse made him feel more alive than he had ever been. These moments of exhilaration ultimately served to make the rest of his life bleaker and his heart to yearn for these moments more vigorously, but for now, they were his to cherish.

"I'm glad to finally see some life in you Trunks. You had me worried during lunch." Goten's words came out in short clipped breaths, his punches seeming sluggish to Trunks as he easily dodged each one in his alert state.

"Yeah well, it's hard to be low energy in a fight," he smiled demonstrating his point with a swift kick that elicited a groan of pain.

"No it's not, so long as you don't mind getting your butt kicked."

Trunks snorted, flying higher in the air while dodging a few blasts, his mind drifting back to Adia. It was odd to him now that he had never thought much about the cuts that littered her skin.

"Alright Trunks, this is it."

Had he been so self absorbed that he had never noticed what was right in front of him?

"This last face off will end it for the day."

Trunks wasn't sure why it bothered him. Adia was just another pathetic fangirl trying to use him as an excuse to ignore her self harm problem.

"Kame..."

He wondered why she had even begun to do that. What had driven her over the edge?

"...Hame..."

It could have been that cutting did for her what fighting did for him.

"...Ha."

Maybe it was for attention. Adia's desperate attempt to get someone to notice her. That must have been it. She was known as an emo, after all. It was ridiculous of Trunks to compare his training to what she did.

"Trunks? Hey! Trunks, look out!"

The more he thought about it, the more disgusted she made him and the angrier he became. It distracted him to the point where he could almost push aside the sharp pain that suddenly connected with his side. For a few blissful seconds, he was flying without exerting any effort. He could let everything go, and focus on nothing but the beautiful physical agony that now consumed him.

There were no trivial obligations. No insults from his father. No nagging from his mother.

It was him, the burn in his side, the ache in his back as he collided with the dirt, and the glorious feeling of ragged rocks tearing at his skin when he began to skid. He now knew what Adia found so alluring, and when it ended, he craved for the ripping of his flesh to begin again.

"Oh Kami Trunks, I'm so sorry! I don't know what I was thinking, I should have noticed you were preoccupied and...Are you alright?"

There was that look again. The one that was asking something of him. Trunks was sick of it. His mother, his father, his so called friends - including Goten always wanted something of him. It didn't matter if it was as simple as the answer to a question. What had just taken place had been his moment of bliss and he would never share that joy with Goten.

Trunks pushed himself up, not answering Goten's desperate babbling, but raising a hand to silence him. His body was still sore, and his eyes fell to his red splattered arm as his fingers traced the lines of oozing blood. As though he had been burned, he drew his hand back, letting it fall to his side.

It was too beautiful and simultaneously too horrible to touch.

"Trunks?..."

Trunks let out a small breath while he gazed at his blood stained fingers. Confusion tore at his mind, his heart filled with both fear and curiosity at the discovery he had made. It wasn't something he could confide within Goten – he would never understand. This would be Trunks' secret, something that couldn't be taken from him.

"I'm fine Goten."

"Are you sure?"

The elder teen sighed, halting in his retreat to his house. He forced a smile laced with traces of restrained contempt that caused Goten's throat to constrict in fear. "I'm sure. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Goten opened his mouth to speak once more, only to find the door clicking shut before he could. The small noise marked the end of the subject and their conversation for the time being. For now, he would accept Trunks' signals for what they were. He just hoped they didn't symbolize the completion of something much more important.

* * *

FIRSTCHAPTERISDONETHANKYOUEVERYDEITYEVER!

That first chapter was brutal. It's more than a little hard to write a first chapter that isn't about Trunks' cutting problem when that's what the story is about. But starting it off with him already cutting wouldn't explain much unless I did flashbacks. Not a big fan of writing flashbacks. Also, I hate putting original characters into fanfiction, but I'm afraid Adia is somewhat necessary for what I have planned.

I'll try to make her appearances as short and painless as possible, and as stated in the really long note most of you understandably skipped over, she will **never** be paired with Trunks.

Thank you so much for choosing to give this a shot. I'll do my best not to let you down. Now, to end the chapter I'm going to put some facts about cutting. They are taken from various sources that will be listed in my profile. The fact part at the end will appear every other chapter. The even numbered chapters will instead have tips that helped me to break the habit of cutting that I hope could help others.

Cutting facts part one:

"Nearly 1 in 5 students at Princeton and Cornell say they have purposely injured themselves by cutting, burning or other methods."

"Among this 17 percent, 70 percent reported self-injuring multiple times."

"A British study suggests that on average, two students in every high school classroom and junior high school classroom will have self harmed."

"Separate research found more than 400 Web sites devoted to self-harm, including many that glorify it."

"Some researches believe the rush gained from cutting is feel-good hormones called endorphins produced in response to pain."

Knowledge is power.


End file.
